Transatlanticism
by YourAlgebra
Summary: Arnold has been parent-less for 15 years and Helga has loved him for just as long. Can these two look past all the pain they've suffered and move on together? Or will it all fall to pieces? My take on "The Jungle Movie"
1. Prologue: Hope For The Hopeless

Hey all! I'm attempting to write this story based on my great love for "Hey Arnold!". The series ended before the story was finished; in this I intend to finish it. I'm going to attempt to write "The Jungle Movie", essentially. The only really change is their age. This story takes place in their junior year of high school, therefore they're all about 17 years old.

Feedback is appreciated, but flames will be ignored. Constructive criticism is the way to go, friends! This is, I want to remind you, just the prologue. It will switch into third person in the next chapter. I just want to give you an idea of how our favorite blondes are doing.

I'm also a very musical person, so I'll provide a song for each segment that will most likely be the title of said segment.

This chapter is: _Hope For The Hopeless_ by A Fine Frenzy

**Prologue: Hope For The Hopeless**

"_We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope." _

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

**

* * *

**

_I can see the sky. Clear blue, with few clouds. _

I've had this dream hundreds of times before. Ever since I heard the true story about what happened to my parents, since that stupid "Parent's Day" tournament back in the Fourth grade.

_I climb out my window and find my plane already humming, waiting for me to put its potential energy to good use. _

I have this dream every night. Haven't dreamed about anything else in the last seven years.

_I climb into the pit and secure my goggles and scarf. I can see ahead of me into a world full of possibilities and promise. Dreams of tomorrow and the fervent wishes of my unconscious mind are laid out for the world to see. _

_The controls are easy to handle, I've done it hundreds of times before. Pulling back on the wheel, I fly upward into the clouds. _

_Off to rejoin those whom I have long missed. _

However, I never seem to get there.

The cries of "Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold!" buzzing from my alarm clock wake me too soon and I must revisit the world of the living once again. My parents are dead. They've been dead for almost 17 years. They aren't coming home.

_Ugh! I can't think this way! I have to stay positive. After all, what do I know? Anything could happen... right? _

* * *

_I can see the sky. Clear blue, with a smattering of clouds. _

I have this dream almost every night. Ever since I confessed my secret at the former FTI building I've been plagued by this fantasy.

_I'm laying on my back, staring at the sky. The world swirls around me and I feel completely at peace._

I'm never at peace except for within these dreams.

_I can feel his presence before I see him and a broad smile appears on my face, a smile I seldom let anyone see. He kneels down next to me and caresses my cheek. _

"_You know how much I love you," He whispers. _

_I smile and reply, "I know, love. I know." _

_He lay down next to me and grasps my hand. "Forever, Helga." _

_I turn my head and lock eyes with him for the first time. _

"_Forever, Arnold."_

Beep! Beep! Beep!

_Criminy, I hate this alarm! Too damn loud! _

After years and years of pining over Arnold, you'd think I'd have gotten wise to the likely-hood of this dream being realized.

Arnold and I have known each other for almost 14 years and I've loved him for just as long. Why can't I just get the truth through my thick skull? He doesn't love me. He's never loved me.

He never will.

_But, then again... _

_Anything could happen, right?_

* * *

Let me know what you think!

- YourAlgebra


	2. Chapter One: Stop This Train

Hey all! Sorry this took so long. My muse was on vacation for a little while, so this chapter took a while. I'm not completely satisfied with it since it doesn't advance the plot. But it does help set up the school/home environment for Helga. I'd also like to mention that this chapter, and all chapters from here on out, will be written in 3rd person.

Reviewer comments!:

**nilegirl**: Thanks for your review! I'll do my best to keep going.

**Hellerick Ferlibay**: I'm glad you like it. I'm not usually a fan of the more obvious parallelism either, but I thought that for the purpose of setting up character it would be alright.

**Mony**: Thanks! And here's the chapter, just for you.

**acosta perez jose ramiro**: I'm glad you like it. Here's the next installment.

This chapter is: _Stop This Train_ by John Mayer

**Chapter One: Stop This Train**

"_Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be."_

_- _Anton Chekhov

* * *

Helga was running late as usual. And as usual, it wasn't her fault.

After waking at 6:15 from another night of dreaming about Arnold, she'd showered, dressed, and gone downstairs to find her mother passed out on the floor.

_This is the third day in a row, _thought Helga, _Bob and Miriam must've continued fighting after I fell asleep last night._

Since Bob had expanded "Big Bob's Beepers" to the far more profitable "Pataki Enterprises", a global conglomerate which dominated the communications market, he'd had a problem maintaining his fidelity. First it was the secretary, then the director of Personnel. He'd even made a move on Pheobe's mother!

It seemed that this was too much for Miriam to take lying down or, at least, to take sober. She'd get hammered, accuse Bob of cheating on her, and promptly pass out. And Helga would wake up and take care of her mother. Forever late to school.

"Criminy, why don't they just get divorced already?" grumbled Helga as she locked the front door of her house and began to run to school. Again.

_Olga has it so easy. She doesn't have to put up with this crap. _

After finishing undergrad, graduate, and her teaching degree, Olga became a middle-school teacher. Something Helga did not envy in the least; middle-schoolers were a pain.

However Olga seemed happy with her job and her life. She had a spouse and a daughter whom she adored and whom Helga adored. Olga's daughter Willow was the most wonderful little girl she'd ever seen.

Bright green eyes, dark chocolate-colored hair, and a sweet disposition. She honestly cared about everyone and was one of the most understanding, if naive, 6 year olds she'd ever met. Unlike Lila Sawyer.

"Speak of the devil" grumbled Helga. As Helga approached Century High School, Lila Sawyer was exiting her cab and making her way into the building ahead of her.

_Well, with a little luck I'll make it to IB English just before Little Miss Perfect. Mr. Quin will focus all his anger on her. _

Mr. Quin was the most vibrant teacher at Century, but he took tardiness very seriously and considered it rude. No matter how much he liked a student.

Helga raced up two flights of stairs and bolted down the hall to her classroom.

_No sign of the Miss Priss, _she thought,_ My day may be looking up! _

Helga flung the door open, only to find Little Miss Perfect giving the ever-so perfect excuse.

"Oh, Mr. Quin. I'm ever-so sorry for being late! My littlest sister needed a ride to school. She's only five, she can't very well walk to P.S. 118 alone!"

_Pft, what a liar. She took a cab to school! Not to mention that she doesn't even have a sister! _

Mr. Quin rolled his eyes slightly at Lila's excuse and motioned for her to sit down. She smiled at him, and turned to sit down. But not before she gave Arnold a wink.

Helga sighed and looked up at her Lit teacher, hoping he wouldn't chastise her too terribly.

He sighed. "Miss Pataki, please just sit down. We can talk about this after class."

Helga swiftly sat down in the third row. She thought she saw Lila smirk at her... but she couldn't be sure.

"Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, we were discussing the implications of Tom Stoppard's _Rozencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. _You should have all read by today and be prepared with an intelligent perspective on the content."

The class shifted uneasily in their seats, but Helga was confident. She loved plays, and Tom Stoppard was one of her favorite playwrights.

"So, class. I would like you to explain this quote with reference to both the play and the greater world around us" Mr. Quin cleared his throat and spoke again with great bravado.

"Audiences know what to expect, and that is all they are prepared to believe in."

Mr. Quin looked around at the lack of response. He sighed until his eyes landed on Lila, who did her best to avert eye contact.

"Miss Sawyer, if you could enlighten us?"

Lila muttered something under her breath and looked up at Mr. Quin.

"Um, well, I guess it means, like, that the audience already knows what's going to happen. And they believe in what's happening, because they're watching it!"

Helga scoffed. _What a ridiculous answer. Did she even read the play?_

Lila glared at Helga vehemently, obviously angry about being mocked.

"Helga," addressed Mr. Quinn, "do you have something to share."

Helga mulled over her options, but decided that if he was going to ask she'd give him the answer.

"Everything that Lila just said was completely ridiculous. On the theatrical level, this suggests that when we applaud some aspect of a play as realistic, we really mean that it conforms to our expectations of the way the play should go. In this scene in particular, the Player's point is that audiences expect certain characters to die and expect death to look a certain way onstage, and audiences will only believe that deaths have been realistically represented if they happen the way audiences anticipate. Our desire to see the plots of literary works unfold in specific ways determines whether we will believe those pieces of literature to be realistic."

The entire class was flabbergasted. Helga had never spoken in class before, they had no idea that her observations would be so... intelligent!

"Good point, Helga. What about the context in our world?" murmured Mr. Quin, obviously pleased with Helga's comment.

"Well, the remark also points to our role as spectators of the dramas of life, not just the dramas of the theater. We have beliefs and expectations about the world around us, the Player says, and when we are confronted with something that does not conform to those beliefs, we question or even reject it. The things we believe are true in life, in other words, are simply the things we expect to be true."

Pheobe smiled widely at Helga's observations. She'd always known her friend was a brilliant literary mind, this just confirmed what she'd thought.

Helga smiled slightly back at her. She wasn't much for speaking in class, preferring to listen and learn. But showing up Lila was always a perk!

"Good point, Helga. And good thoughts. Class, this is the type of response I expect from all of you. This is an IB English class and you are all juniors. I expect this type of higher-level thinking. Now, lets move on."

Helga glanced over at Lila, who was giving her a menacing look for upstaging her. Helga looked down at her desk and smiled.

Lila may be the prettiest. She may be the nicest. She may hold the affections of every boy, including her Arnold. But none of that mattered at the moment.

Helga had finally won one.

* * *

Uh oh, looks like Lila isn't too happy with Helga. We'll see where this takes us!

Feedback is always appreciated and I'll update sometime this weekend, if I'm lucky and my muse is cooperating.

Thanks!

- YourAlgebra


	3. Chapter Two: Many the Miles

I'm so sorry that this update took so long. This chapter was really difficult to write. I can easily get into Helga's mind, it's not as easy to get into Arnold's.

Reviewer comments:

**Mony**: I thought it was really important to establish Helga's intelligence because they REALLY don't give her enough credit for how brilliant she really is!

**acosta perez jose ramiro**: I'll keep writing as long as you keep reading!

**Hellerick Ferlibay**: I absolutely adore that play, it's one of my favorite plays by Stoppard. I plan on pursuing Bob's problems with fidelity further in the story so, believe me, it will come up again in one form or another. Willow will also come up, but later.

This chapter is: _Many the Miles _by Sara Bareilles

**Chapter Two: Many the Miles**

"_At the temple, there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read Loss, only feel it."_

- Memoirs of a Geisha, 2005

* * *

Arnold was the first one at school again. It pained him too much to linger at the boarding house after dreaming about his parents. Even though he had few memories of them, being at home was a reminder of who wasn't there. Who had never been there for him.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it. __**Don't think about it.**_

Arnold shook his head side to side fervently to shake her negative thought away as the rest of the class filed in to his IB English class.

He smiled as Phoebe walked into the room. Since she'd started dating his best friend, Gerald, Phoebe and Arnold had become really close.

Phoebe was a constant positive presence in his life and had assisted him through so many hardships. Though no one would suspect it, he trusted Phoebe over all others.

"Good Morning, Arnold!" she exclaimed as she took the seat next to him.

He smiled slightly. "Hey Pheebs"

"Arnold, what's wrong?"

_She always knows when something is wrong. _

"I had the dream again."

"About your parents?"

Arnold nodded quickly as his teacher, Mr. Quin, entered the room.

"Class, today we're going to do an analysis of _Rozencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. _I hope you all did the reading, because no one will be spared today."

Arnold sighed. He had skimmed the pages, but the play depressed him far too much.

_Too much talk about death. _

Arnold was pulling out his copy of the play when Lila stepped in. She was so beautiful. But so... shallow. Elementary school was long over and he could see Lila for who she really was. Or, rather, who she had become.

_That is the beauty of growing up with tragedy, _Arnold thought, _learning who your friends really are. _

In the 7th grade, Arnold's grandmother passed away. It was peaceful -- in her sleep. A rather bland death for a woman whose life had been so vibrant. She had lived and loved. Which is more than Arnold could say about himself.

At the funeral, Lila had been more of a nuisance than a comfort. Assisting him in the only way she know how; talking about herself and attempting to amuse him with her inane witticisms.

If anyone had been there for him that day... it was Helga. They had never been friends, not really. But she seemed to know what to say in the most critical of moments.

_Speak of the devil. _

Helga ran in, looking flustered as usual. She was never on time to any class they had and yet she comprehended the material better than anyone else. Whereas Arnold came early to class every day and was barely scraping by with a B average.

It wasn't necessarily that Arnold didn't understand the material. He just had a hard time focusing. Always lost in day dreams during class. Dreams of flying to San Lorenzo, finding his lost parents, his grandmother living again, the mysterious Cecile...

_Speaking of, I should be paying attention NOW. _

Helga was giving the most in-depth literary critique and analysis he'd ever heard. He could see Phoebe smirking next to him and Gerald, seated in from of him, was looking back at Helga with an incredulous look upon his face.

Gerald had always underestimated Helga. Seeing only what was on the surface rather than looking within her. Arnold wasn't at all surprised about her response. Her intelligence was evident in everything she did.

_That's what I like about her. She has depth, layers. Like an onion... or a parfait? _

"Arnold!" bellowed Mr. Quin

Arnold's head snapped up and he saw Mr. Quin staring at him, looking annoyed.

"Um..." stammered Arnold as his classmates snickered at his misfortune, "Yes, Mr Quin?"

"Thank you **so **much for your attention, Mr. Thompson. You cannot imagine what a thrill it is for me to yell for your attention. If you could pay attention to what is happening in this classroom, rather than what is happening in your mind that would be fantastic."

Arnold blushed from the tongue-lashing he had just received and nodded. "Sorry, sir. I just have a lot on my mind."

Mr. Quin nodded and walked back up to the blackboard.

Phoebe looked over at Arnold quickly and smiled at him sympathetically. He smiled back and then switched his focus to Mr. Quin.

_Just a few more hours. _

* * *

Arnold shuffled through school in a daze. Meaningless hours of busy work and semi-interesting discussions. There was a still a buzz about Helga's commentary in IB English, at lunch it was the topic of choice.

"It's not that I don't think the girl's intelligent," said Stinky, or as everyone called him now 'Peterson', "It's just that I ne'er expected anything like that!"

"I know! It was totally out of the blue! I mean, like, I assumed she was smart. But I never thought she was... y'know" mentioned Eugene.

The group stared at Eugene and laughed. He always managed to say everything and nothing at the same time.

The gang from P.S. 118 had remained together, for the most part. Nadine had moved just before high school which left Rhonda, and Allister, Peapod Kid, in the cold. But they had adapted. Rhonda and Helga had become very close. And Allister, who'd long harbored feelings for Nadine, had started dating a girl named Helena. She fit in rather well.

"I thought it was ever-so rude that she made me look like a fool in front of the entire class!" said Lila.

Arnold just rolled his eyes and looked over at Phoebe. She was glaring at her sushi with a great deal of anger in her eyes. Phoebe was extremely protective of Helga, especially when Lila attacked her.

_I wonder why Lila is so intimidated by Helga. It seems like ever since middle school ended she's been targeting her in particular. _

"She just wanted to show off." complained Lila "It's so pathetic the way she feels like she needs to prove herself."

The more she talked about it, the more you could see that everyone at the table was becoming more and more uncomfortable. Phoebe was clinching her fists together tightly.

"Helga's such a freak. I can't believe that we're friends with such a loser."

Fists slammed on the table and all heads whipped around to stare at Phoebe, who had jumped up. Unable to take what Lila was saying.

"Lila, that's enough! You're obviously NOT her friend if you think it's acceptable to speak about her in such a despicable way. You're acting incredibly rude and immature and I will not put up with it anymore!"

At this, Phoebe grabbed her backpack and stormed out of the lunchroom. Leaving a cafeteria full of astounded people in her wake.

* * *

With Helga's diatribe being overshadowed by Phoebe's explosion in the cafeteria, the day was getting stranger by the minute. And Arnold couldn't wait until it was over.

He'd finally made it to his fourth period class, and normally this would have pleased him... but it was the most irritating class he had.

Theoretically, IB U.S. History was supposed to cover the events of, y'know, the history of the United States. Unfortunately, since this was the last month of his junior year it had digressed into 'lets look at scholarships on the internet as an excuse not to teach'.

Arnold was idly clicking through various scholarships; the Siemens Competition, the Traditional Music Scholarship, National Merit...

Suddenly, Arnold stopped clicking and his mouth dropped open.

He'd landed on a scholarship offered by Overseas Adventure Travel, which was a company that prided itself on travel for humanitarian purposes.

It was the company his parents had used. They had rented the plane from them.

_Is this a sign? _

Arnold clicked on the offer, and it linked him to their site which described the nature of the trip.

_**Offer Type: Contest**_

_**Available For: High School Students (Grades 9 - 12) **_

_**Want to travel the world? Have a desire to help others? Through the Overseas Adventure Travel: Students Serving Students Contest you can travel anywhere in the world to assist in classrooms. Get the real experience of what it's like to live in another country! **_

_**If you win, you and 15 friends can travel to the country of your choice! **_

_**Just submit an essay about why you deserve to win. **_

_**Duration of stay: July 1st - August 2nd**_

_**Essay Length: 1,000 - 2,000 words**_

_**Due: May 30th **_

Arnold was speechless. This was his opportunity! He could travel down to San Lorenzo and find his parents!

But it was May 28th... he only had two days to write the essay!

_I have to win this! It has to be perfect... I need to get home. _

As luck would have it, the bell rang at that exact moment. Arnold quickly jumped out of his seat, grabbed his things, and ran home.

* * *

Arnold had spent the entire night slaving over his essay. Rewriting, editing, and rewriting again. He'd finally gotten his essay to 1,956 words.

_This is it. This is my chance. _

It was almost midnight and Arnold had snuck out of the boarding house to deliver the entry.

Standing in front of the mailbox, he held the essay tightly in his hands. And, after saying a small prayer, he put it in and ran home.

* * *

As Arnold ran off into the distance, a dark figure appeared out of the shadows. They reached into the mailbox and felt a letter that hadn't quite fallen into the bottom. They smiled at their luck and pocketed the treasure before disappearing once again into the night.

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter! Remember, reviewing is what keeps authors writing. I encourage it, friends!

Much love,

- YourAlgebra


	4. Chapter Three: Forgive Me

Finally, an update.

Song is "Forgive Me" by Missy Higgins

**Chapter Three: Forgive Me**

"_Sometimes when we are generous in small, barely detectable ways it can change someone else's life forever." _

- Margaret Cho

* * *

Helga Pataki had never claimed to be perfect. She'd never been the prettiest, the smartest, or the most charismatic. However, there was one thing that Helga knew without a doubt.

She was a master of the written word.

Be it analysis, composition, or editing. Helga excelled and she always had. Even as a child her mind had swirled with thoughts and ideas too advanced for her fellow classmates to understand, except perhaps Phoebe and, on occasion, Arnold. They had been the only two people in her life that did not underestimate her. Refused to have their opinion of her swayed by her attitude. They stood up for her. They cared about her.

Not to say that she didn't have other friends. She did. She'd made her own share of friends through her involvement within the Theatre Department and just a general accumulation over the years. Still, no one understood her quite like those two.

Phoebe and her had grown particularly close as time had gone on. Not that they hadn't been close during the early years; they had been! But Helga had always kept everyone at arm's length when she was a kid, especially the people she cared about.

People she cared about...

_Arnold. _

Arnold didn't deserve the things that had happened to him. Losing his parents and his grandmother at such a young age. If anyone deserved a family that loved him... it was him.

Which is why, when she'd overheard Arnold telling Gerald about the contest that, if he won, he could use to go to South America and find his parents, she couldn't resist the temptation to read what he'd written. Helga knew that Arnold wasn't the strongest writer. He tended to get distracted; a classic lack of organization that many students struggled with. She couldn't, nay _wouldn't_, let that be his downfall.

So she had followed him.

Helga waited outside of the boarding house in the shadows, waiting for him to take the letter to the mailbox. She didn't really know how she'd retrieve the letter after it had been delivered, but she'd find a way. This was too important to just let go of.

She'd, luckily, been able to retrieve his entry without having to do anything _too _illegal.

Now, as she sat in her room, she pondered where to go from there. She could read his entry - though she realized the private thoughts she was about to breach - or she could just write an entirely new paper and hope it was close enough to what Arnold would have written.

She sighed heavily, knowing that there was truly only one option.

"Forgive me for this, Arnold" whispered Helga, as she tore open the envelope and began to read.

________________________________________________________________

Six hours, forty-five minutes, and 1,850 words later, Helga stood in front of the mailbox, contemplating what she was about to do. This had to be one of the worst things she'd ever done.

She'd violated the sanctity of Arnold's mind. His innermost thoughts and feelings about his parents.

_How could I have done this to my dear, sweet, innocent... _

"Hey Helga!"

Helga whirled around only to come face to face with that object of her affection.

"Ahh! Don't sneak up on me like that, Football Head! You always do that!"

"Well," he said as he continued to walk "perhaps you should pay closer attention. For instance, to the proximity of the bus to you!"

Helga's head snapped up as she saw the city bus she took to school pass by her and stop at the end of the block.

"Dammit!"

Helga thrust the letter into the slot and took off behind Arnold.

_Of course, I don't have my books or my homework. Or really anything I need. Criminy, what a way to start the day! _

Helga finally reached the bus, skidding to a stop, and began rifling through her pockets. _No money either! What the hell did I bring with me? _

She searched the pockets of her jacket and her jeans. Two pieces of gum and her house keys. _Wonderful._

"I'm sorry," she said as she addressed the bus driver, fervently searching the ground for any money that could have been dropped "I seem to have left my money at home."

The bus driver grunted in annoyance, "Well hurry up, kid. I ain't got all day. If you don't got money and you don't got a bus pass, get the hell offa my bus."

Helga took a deep breath to keep from panicking. She really didn't want to be late again today. And she refused to go back to the school counselor to talk about her "tardy" issues. The man was no Dr. Bliss and, quite frankly, looked like a walrus.

The clang of coins going in the slot broke Helga from mental digression. She looked around and saw that Arnold was depositing the necessary 1.25 for her fare.

"Don't worry, I got this."

Helga sighed with relief. "Thanks, Football head. I'll pay you back."

Arnold shrugged and muttered a 'whatever, you don't have to', but Helga quickly cut him off.

"Arnold, I **will** pay you back."

He smiled and Helga felt her stomach muscles tighten. _Oh, to have the angel's smile pointed in my direction. I cannot believe my luck. _

"We should sit down before the bus driver yells at us, he doesn't seem to be in the best mood."

Helga chuckled. "That would be an understatement. Thanks again, Arnoldo."

And with that, Helga plopped down in the second row on the left and leaned her head against the window. The familiar pounding headache of being awake for 24 hours settling into an easy rhythm in her head.

* * *

Sorry this one took me so long to write. I've been so busy lately that my muse would just NOT cooperate. It's not the best chapter, but it's there. Now we can move forward!

Read, review, repeat.

- YourAlgebra


	5. Chapter Four: Que Sera Sera

...hi. So, I know I've been gone for basically... a year. But in my defense, I did move to Los Angeles and start a new school in which I take 8-11 classes every term during that time. Please understand that it isn't that I didn't want to update. It's that I needed to deal with life for a while.

And if you want someone to thank for **this** update, here's the story: I recently got an iPhone and one day I got an email update from . It was a story review from Twilight's-Mystery. And yes, my dear. You made me feel so bad that I hadn't updated that... well... here we are. Don't worry, though. I hold you no ill will. I wanted start the story up again anyway: you were just the catalyst!

And now, without further adieu...

* * *

Song is "Qué Sera Sera" by Pink Martini

**Chapter Four: Qué Sera Sera**

"_Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans" _

- John Lennon

* * *

Weeks passed and Arnold was becoming continually more distressed with the potential outcome of his essay. Life seemed to whirl around him in a haze. His only focus was his anxiety. The fear that he might fail and the compounded fear that he might succeed and be unable to find his parents.

Needless to say, Arnold was stressed.

The end of the school year was approaching rapidly. Two weeks to the end of the term and he was on autopilot. Every day seemed monotonous compared to the internal turmoil he was continually facing. His mental daze ever consuming...

"Hey Arnold! Wake the hell up!"

Arnold stopped suddenly at the sound of his name, just short of running headfirst into an open locker door. He looked around for his savior and found Gerald, chuckling as he strode over.

"Arnold, my compatriot, you must learn to watch where you're walking. Lest your jinx-y ways resurface."

Arnold reluctantly smiled at this and shoved Gerald's shoulder playfully. "Whatever, man. I'm just distracted lately. This contest has really got me messed up."

Gerald sobered at this, "Look, man. First of all, there's no way you're not winning the contest. And furthermore, on the off chance that you don't win... do you really want it to stop you from living your life? Honestly, dude. You've missed out on some quality end-of-the-year shenanigans due to your stress level. Relax. Whatever will be will be."

"Qué Sera Sera. I suppose you're right, Gerald. So, what are we doing tonight?"

Gerald smiled; happy to have Arnold back if only for a moment.

* * *

As luck would have it, Rhonda had planned a year's end extravaganza at her house for the evening and invited the entire Junior class. Arnold wasn't much for the party scene, generally, but there was no better place to escape your own problems than at a loud, raucous gathering. Rhonda's party had already started when they entered. Ke$ha's "Tik Tok" was blaring from the stereo and a gaggle of students littered the area. Drinking from suspicious red cups, talking loudly, and "dancing" to the blaring music.

Gerald quickly pulled Phoebe off to start dancing. He knew that he'd only get a few dances out of her before she got embarrassed and drew up conversation with Helga; so he took his opportunity. Arnold looked around for the source of the beverages of the non-alcoholic variety, only to find Helga behind him holding a Yahoo for him.

Arnold smiled at her. "Thanks, Helga. You saved me a great deal of searching."

Helga blushed lightly, but turned away so he couldn't see. "I find it's always beneficial to have a map of the area when you come to these things," she said as she switched out Rhonda's music for hers, "not to mention an iPod full of significantly better music than this. Honestly, it doesn't get much worse than Ke$ha."

"Hey," replied Arnold with a smirk "the party don't start till I walk in."

Helga quickly flicked through the playlist and clicked down on the "Non-Shitty Music" playlist. Quickly the music of Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out" began blaring over the speakers.

"See, this is real music. Harmony. Logic. It's no Mozart, but it's better than that tripe."

"Jeez, Helga. Tell us how you really feel!" laughed Rhonda, approaching in a fabulous dress with a martini in hand. "I assume you changed the tunes while I had my back turned?"

"Of course, Madame Lloyd." replied Helga. Her witty repartee with Rhonda had sprung up suddenly once high school had begun. Somehow they'd put their differences aside and become friends. "I consider it your punishment for putting the wretched song on in the first place. You must _learn_ from your mistakes. Anyway, I'll cut you a deal. I'll play Beyoncé if you promise to grant me full rights to the music played at all future parties."

"Whatever, girl. As long as I get my 'Single Ladies'."

Rhonda gave Helga a quick hug as she made her way over to Harold.

Arnold motioned for Helga to join him against the side of the staircase, which gave them an ample view of the party while keeping them uninvolved.

Helga checked her watch and looked over at Phoebe, who was currently blushing brightly and looking around periodically as if to find an escape route.

"I can hang with you for a bit, Football-head," muttered Helga, "but soon I'll be forced to rescue Pheobe from Michael Flatly over there."

Arnold laughed as he watched Gerald dance around Phoebe wildly, "Yeah, his dance skills leave much to be desired." They both chuckled at this and then descended into silence.

It was nice, Arnold decided. He didn't have to force conversation with Helga, she understood that silence could be golden.

Suddenly, they heard loud, brash laughter and a saw a red head stumbling toward them, holding a red party cup.

"Ah," muttered Helga, "our own personal Lindsay Lohan."

Lila had really flip-turned when she came to high school. No longer a sweet, innocent girl but a wild-child who slept with men indiscriminately and drank like a fish.

_Not to mention dressed like a slut! _thought Arnold. Lila was currently decked out in an incredibly short dress with three-inch heels adorning her feet. To some men it would have been alluring, but to Arnold... she just seemed filthy.

"Oh my gaaaawd. I'm so trashed! Who changed the music? Where my tunes at?" Lila stumbled across the party floor, looking around until her gaze dropped on Arnold and he felt his stomach fall as well.

"Oh my gawd, Arnold! You look sooo sexy; we have to dance!"

Arnold gulped, looking for an escape route. Suddenly a hand pulled him away from Lila and on to the dance floor. Helga put his hands around her waist and set her hands on his shoulders.

"Just play along, Football-head. It'll get you away from Lila for a while. And, of course, you totally owe me."

Arnold smirked down at her and nodded. Enjoying the moment away from his pursuer. They then realized a moment later that the song had changed to a slow song.

"Isn't this an old Bob Dylan tune?" whispered Arnold, a little uncomfortable with the close proximity to Helga.

"Uh, yeah. It's covered by Adele, a British vocalist. I'm really into the Brits lately; Lily Allen, Florence + the Machine, Laura Marling..."

Arnold smiled, "Wow, you should let me in on your music secrets."

Helga smirked and muttered, 'Never' before putting her head down on his chest and relishing a moment of closeness with Arnold.

Arnold sighed and held her marginally tighter. This was nice, he realized. Helga was a good friend and it was nice to be near a girl with no expectations of love or intimacy. He could use more friendships like this.

* * *

A few hours later, the party was finally clearing out. Helga said her goodbyes to an exhausted Rhonda and Harold, who were busy cleaning up the mess, a half-asleep Phoebe being carried by Gerald, and the other smattering of party guests that were left.

"Want a ride home, Pataki?"

Helga nodded, sleepily. "Sure, Arnoldo. I'm reeeal sleepy."

He chuckled at her sleep-drunk mutterings and led her to the car. She slid into the passenger seat with a thud and laid motionless while Arnold got in. He smiled at her indulgently and smoothed her hair over. "You gonna make it, Helga?"

Helga smiled up, her eyes half-lidded and nodded. "I'll be good. Just need sleep."

The drive was faster than he'd anticipated and within minutes he was in front of her house. He parked and turned over to Helga, who had fallen fast asleep.

"Helga... Helga...," he whispered, "Time to wake up."

Helga sighed and snuggled closer to Arnold. He shook his head and put the car back in gear and took off for his house.

Pulling into the alley by the boarding house and putting on the steering wheel lock, Arnold groaned with exhaustion and slipped out of the car. He went and picked Helga up out of her seat, locked the doors, and walked Helga up the stairs to his room. Hopefully there'd be no repercussions in the morning; right now, all the could think about was sleep. _Whatever will be, will be._

* * *

I'll try to update soon, I promise. Hope this suffices. 3

- Your Algebra


	6. Chapter Five: Cologne

I'm glad you guys enjoyed the new chapter! And I also think that everyone should review more! They make me smile and remind me to keep writing through all of my crazy school situations.

**Reviewer comments: **

**Bibliophile Music Addict: **Firstly, I adore your name. I'm sorry for how long the update took. And while I don't **hate** Lila, she just seems really fake to me. I don't buy the "tortured childhood makes me a wonderful person!" crap. She seems like a really poorly-developed, weak character.

**Wolvmbm: **Thanks for your kind words. I really enjoy writing this story and I hope I can continue it regularly with my schedule.

**acosta perez jose ramiro: **Thanks! Keep reading and I'll keep writing!

* * *

Song is "Cologne" by Ben Folds

**Chapter Five: Cologne (Or; I Will Let Go, If You Will Let Go)**

"_If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever." _

- A.A. Milne

* * *

Helga woke slowly, every muscle ached and her head was throbbing. Every fiber of her being was telling her to get up, stretch, and take a hot shower. But there was a wonderful scent filling her nose and surrounding her body. It was sweet and spicy and distinctively _male_. It felt calming and... familiar. Strangely familiar...

Helga sat up suddenly, eyes wide open. _Arnold?_

She was in his room. In his bed. Surrounded in everything Arnold. His potato-powered alarm clock, his old Art Tatum, Thelonious Monk, and Miles Davis records juxtaposed with the music of Beck, The Cranberries, and Gomez. His sheets were clean and soft and smelled sweetly of him. For a moment Helga was spun away into the majesty of it all again...

But wait. "What the hell am I doing here!" whispered Helga. The last thing she remembered was being led to Arnold's car and then... nothing. Sleep. Dreams.

Helga shook herself. She couldn't just sit there and wonder about how this happened, she needed to get her ass home. Not that anyone at home would notice she was gone, but she was supposed to babysit Willow tonight and it would be good to make an appearance at home beforehand. She shifted on the bed towards her shoes and sweater discarded on the floor. She slipped her ballet flats on reached for the sweater when the door opened.

It was Arnold. Dressed in gray sweatpants and...

_Oh god! _

He was shirtless.

Helga felt her cheeks turning red and quickly ducked her head to avoid staring at his sculpted chest. The years had treated him well. She shrugged her sweater on and started nervously fiddling with the buttons, waiting for one of them to break the tension.

It was Arnold who started.

"Hey" he whispered, his voice low from sleep.

"Hey," she whispered back.

Another beat of silence. Both unaware of what to say to the other. Helga cleared her throat and forced herself to speak.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Arnold shook himself out of his stupor and checked his watch.

"Oh, yeah, it's 9:15."

Helga released a sigh of relief. Bob was already at work and Miriam was probably still asleep. The stress melted off of her shoulders; she had plenty of time before she needed to be at Olga's. She stood up, stretched her aching muscles, and then her gaze fell back on Arnold, a smirk playing around her lips.

"Do I need to sneak out?"

Arnold laughed as he put on a white t-shirt. "No, no. You're good. Grandpa trusts me not to take advantage of the _many_ ladies I have in my room."

Helga winced at the implication, though she knew he was joking. Her reply held less humor.

"You stud, you."

Arnold seemed to sense her unease and quickly changed the topic.

"So, do you want food or a shower or... something?"

Helga nodded, "Both would be good, I think.", and allowed herself to be led away to first a hot shower and then breakfast.

* * *

Three hours later, and Helga was still there. She couldn't believe it, usually she freaked out at this point and shied away from him, but she found herself truly enjoying her time there. They'd talked about the party over breakfast, then moved on to more diverse avenues of conversation; the political climate, human rights, and the importance of the Looney Tunes.

Deep in the middle of their debate of who was angrier; Daffy Duck or Donald Duck, Helga's cell phone alarm went off.

**Olga's: 2 hours**

Her head whipped around and saw that it was nearing 3:00pm. She needed to get home, change, and drive herself to Olga's.

"Oh crap, Arnold. I have to go."

He looked startled, and a little disappointed. "Why?"

"I need to babysit Olga's daughter. It's her and Tom's anniversary and Willow's only six, she can't be left alo--."

"Do you need any help?"

Arnold cut her off quickly and she was momentarily speechless.

"Uh, I suppose so. She's a big ball of energy, but she's a sweet kid. You sure you want to? It can't be how you envisioned spending your Saturday evening."

Arnold shrugged. "Gerald will be out with Pheobe tonight and I desperately don't want to be home tonight; Grandpa's cooking."

Helga shuddered. Phil's cooking was a thing of legend.

"Well, if you really want to. I need to go home and change first, though."

Arnold nodded and before Helga could say another word, he was on his way upstairs to change.

_Well... this will be interesting..._

_

* * *

_

Helga ran into the house, ignoring Miriam's loud snores from behind the couch and changed into a more appropriate, and clean, outfit for babysitting. She brushed her teeth twice since they felt a bit furry and put on some deodorant, and then upon second consideration spritzed on some perfume. She usually didn't indulge in such silly, girly things but Arnold was going to be with her this time. She needed to be extra-careful about scent.

She took a quick look at herself in the mirror and chuckled a bit at what she saw. The lack of brushing had caused her hair to curl wildly. She tried to smooth it down a bit, but ended up just adding to the problem. Helga sighed, grabbed a book for Willow, and headed back downstairs.

She left a note on the fridge, just in case anyone cared to know, and left for Arnold's car. She slid into the passenger seat and plugged in her iPod to the tape adapter, putting on "I Often Dream of Trains" by Grant-Lee Phillips. Arnold bobbed his head to the music and smiled at her.

"Ready, Helga?"

Helga nodded and they were off, the smell of their perfume and cologne mixing in the car and created an interesting smell. Musky and masculine, sweet and feminine. It wasn't bad. It worked well together. They worked well together. Who was she to deny it? These feelings existed and while she might not have a chance with him, there was still hope. He still wanted to be her friend. If he still wanted her around, who was she to deny him. She decided to let herself believe in the dream. 

_After all, _she thought, glancing over at Arnold_, I'll let go if he lets go._

_

* * *

_

I will update with the babysitting story soon! And the results of Arnold's application will also appear. I have most of this planned out already, but you won't get it unless you... REVIEW!

Till then,

- Your Algebra


	7. Chapter Six: Love for a Child

Hullo, everyone! You've gotten me obsessed with writing chapters and updating this story, so right now when I should be sleeping I'm writing. Oh well! It's worth it! I do it all for you guys.

**Review Responses: **

**Twilight's-Mystery:** Thank you so much for kicking me into gear. Writing this has felt really good and I'm committed to working onto it until I'm finished. So, truly, thank you!

**acosta perez jose ramiro:** Thanks for the review! I appreciate the constant feedback.

**Blankasill:** Thanks! I'm glad you all enjoy it so much, I really enjoy writing it.

**Phantom Amethyst: **Aww, thanks! I'm glad you think so. I'm hoping it'll turn out well.

* * *

Song is "Love for a Child" by Jason Mraz

**Chapter Six: Love for a Child**

"_There are two kinds of secrets; those we keep from others, and those we keep from ourselves." _

- Frank Warren

* * *

Willow was everything that Helga loved about children. She was bright, energetic, friendly, and sweet. Immediately after she and Arnold had entered the house, Willow had squealed her name and ran over to her; leaping into her arms. Olga greeted her and Arnold and after a quick survey of the situation (and a pointed look at Helga about Arnold's presence) they were off on their date, no plans to return till at least midnight.

As soon as her parents had left, Willow went over Arnold and started analyzing him. Circling around his legs and then standing in front of him; staring straight into his eyes. Arnold shifted uncomfortably at the scrutiny of the 6 year old, but a moment later she looked at Helga, nodded, and then grabbed Arnold's hand and scampered off with him in tow.

As Arnold was pulled away, Helga started laughing hysterically. Yes, this would certainly be an interesting night!

* * *

Over an hour later, Willow had showed Arnold every room in the house, every toy in her collection, and made him play hide and seek with her. Helga was amazed at his stamina, he'd gone non-stop and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. It made her smile; Arnold would be a wonderful father.

_Dong dong dong dong. Dun dong dong dong. Doooong. Doooong. Doooong. Doooong. Doooong. Doooong. _

Helga looked up at the grandfather clock; it was six. She needed to get Willow some dinner before she got her into the bath. With a quick glance at Arnold and Willow, who were glued to the TV watching the DVDs of "Batman: the Animated Series", she headed into the kitchen and looked around for dinner materials.

She decided on a few options; fried chicken, sweet potato fries, and a garden salad. Hopefully with the promise of the fried chicken and fries, Willow would be willing to devour her salad down without a fuss.

After slicing the sweet potatoes into tiny, fry-shaped slices and soaking the chicken in buttermilk for a few minutes, she put vegetable shortening into a cast-iron skillet, covered the chicken with salt, paprika, garlic power, and cayenne powder, and started frying.

As she started cooking the chicken through, her mind began wandering. Arnold _would _be a wonderful father. She could just imagine their children; blonde with bright blue eyes. Tiny fingers and toes. Helga then started imagining how they would _make_ those little children... hands grasping at sheets, whispered declarations of love, fevered kisses all over her body...

"Hey! What are you making?"

Helga shrieked and some of the oil spilled out onto her hand. She backed quickly away from stove quickly and stared at her burned palm. Her skin sizzled from the contact with the oil and hot tears began falling. She clenched her eyes tightly and tried to hold them back while returning to the stove and flipping the chicken.

Trying to hold back the pain, her voice tight, she muttered to Arnold, "Please take care of Willow till dinner is done."

She heard Arnold sharply inhale, and then walk out of the room. Helga sighed, put the sweet potato fries into the oven, and then ran over to the fridge to soak her hand in the ice water. _Hell, this hurts terribly. But I don't want Willow to freak out over this... god, freaking OWWW! _

Helga checked on the food, and after taking the chicken out of the pan and onto the drying rack, she ran to the bathroom and quickly applied Neosporin and wrapped it in gauze. It would be okay. Willow wouldn't notice, right?

It wasn't as if she felt the kid couldn't handle her being hurt, but she didn't want the little girl to worry about her. She was supposed to be taking care of the child, not the other way around. That's how a family should function.

Helga sighed and walked back to the kitchen. She turned off the oven, pulled out the fries, and tossed the salad together. After putting together three plates for Arnold, Willow, and herself, she strolled out into the living room to deliver.

* * *

After serving dinner while watching _Once Upon A Forest_, she gave Willow a bath and put her in her pajamas and into bed. After tucking her in, she and Arnold took seats on the side of Willow's bed.

"So, sweet pea, what will tonight's sleepy-time activity be? Story? Poetry? Song?"

Willow screwed up her eyes and considered it for a moment.

"Auntie, will you sing me my song?"

Helga smiled, "Of course, dear."

"_There's a picture on my kitchen wall._

_Looks like Jesus, with his friends involved. _

_There's a party getting started in the yard. _

_And a couple getting steamy in the car parked in the drive._

_Was I too young to see this with my eyes? _

_And by the pool that night, apparently._

_The chemicals weren't mixed properly._

_You hit your head and then forgot your name. _

_And you woke up at the bottom by the drain._

_Now your altitude and memory's a shame." _

Willow's eyes were beginning to droop. Helga smoothed her hand over Willow's forehead and tucked her in.

"_What about taking this empty cup _

_And filling it up with a little more innocence._

_I haven't had enough. _

_It's probably because when you're young._

_It's okay to be easily ignored._

_I'd like to believe it's all about love for a child."_

Her breathing had evened out. The little girl was sleeping soundly and Helga let out a sigh of relief and made to get back up, when Arnold's voice halted her progress.

He wasn't even looking at her, his eyes locked onto Willow's still form.

"Please finish the song."

Helga froze for a moment then took a deep breath and nodded, ushering him out of the room so they wouldn't wake the sleeping angel.

As soon as they were out the door, Helga strode over to the keyboard in the living room and sat down, playing chords as she continued the melancholy melody.

"_And when the house was left in shambles._

_Who was there to handle all the broken bits of glass?_

_Was it mom who threw my dad out on his ass or the other way around? _

_Well I'm far too old to care about that now._

_What about taking this empty cup _

_And filling it up with a little more innocence._

_I haven't had enough. _

_It's probably because when you're young._

_It's okay to be easily ignored._

_I'd like to believe it's all about love for a child." _

Helga groaned in frustration and turned back to Arnold.

"Look, is there a reason you're asking me to do this? Cause, it's kind of awkward to sing this for some random reason!"

She was getting defensive, but it served him right. Putting her on the spot, making her into a spectacle!

"I mean what the hell, Arnold? I thought you wanted to help me, not just watch me make an ass out of myself. Seriously, football-head. What the hell is it you **want** from-"

"Helga!" yelled Arnold, interrupting her diatribe, "I'm not trying to put you on the spot or embarrass you or anything! I just... I liked the song. It made me think of... well... of my parents."

Helga felt she'd had all the wind knocked out of her. She didn't realize he might connect to the words. An apology seemed necessary, but Arnold cut her off.

"I guess I just feel... I dunno, angry at them sometimes. I'm mad that they left me all alone. Why couldn't they just stay with me? Didn't they love me enough? Why didn't they care enough about me to stay? How could they do this to me?" He left off with a sigh, his voice heavy with anger and frustration.

She didn't know what to do. She could try to comfort him or to tell him he was wrong and make him feel better. But, honestly, she was kind of disappointed in Arnold's little pity party. She'd **kill** for Arnold's grandparents and his family life. He was surrounded by people who adored him! Helga decided to give it to him straight.

"Look, Arnold. You need to be more grateful for what you have. Yes, your parents left you. But you know that they love you and they left you with a group of people who adore you and grandparents who would do anything for you! Don't you understand? I'd kill for what you have! I have no one other than Olga. My parents don't give a fuck about what I do! They've never cared about me or each other; it's like living with a divorced couple and neither of them want the kid left in the mix!"

Helga whipped around back to the keyboard and started the song up with renewed vigor.

"_It's been kinda nice to work the floor since the divorce. _

_I've been enjoying all my Christmases and my birthday cakes._

_And taking drugs, and making love at far too young an age. _

_And they never checked to see my grades, what a __**fool**__ I'd be to start complaining now._

_What about taking this empty cup _

_And filling it up with a little more innocence._

_I haven't had enough. _

_It's probably because when you're young._

_It's okay to be easily ignored._

_I'd like to believe it's all about love for a child._

_I'd love to believe it was all about love." _

Helga sighed and stared at the floor. The room was silent, save for Willow's light snoring in the background and the hum of the dishwasher.

Helga took a deep breath and muttered softly, "Arnold, you will find your parents and when you're together again they'll love and cherish your very existence just like your extended family does now. But Arnold, I don't have that. My parents have me around every day and they've never cared. They don't love me."

Silence reigned supreme again as all the air rushed out of Helga's lungs. She felt the tears spring up in her eyes and was fervently trying to even her breathing and fight the emotional overload. She couldn't get too emotional around Arnold; the vulnerability might make her say things she'd regret. Suddenly, she felt two strong arms surround her middle and she was pulled close to a warm body.

Arnold was hugging her. Voluntarily.

She tensed immediately, not used to being close to anyone in this way; especially Arnold. But after a few minutes with no sign of awkward questions or conversation coming from him, she began to relax into his touch.

They sat there, silently for what felt like hours when Arnold finally broke the silence.

"Don't you think that's kind of a depressing song to sing to a six year old?"

* * *

After the emotional interlude, and a solemn vow to never discuss it again, Arnold and Helga cleaned up the kitchen and the family room and settled on the couch, watching "The Fugitive". Olga and Tom appeared a few moments later and after catching up on the evening and dispersing the $20 payment, which Helga split between Arnold and herself, they were off to the car for a long trip home.

It had started to rain outside. Cool and refreshing, especially considering that her hand was still sore from the burn. She strode over to Arnold's car pulled the handle. It was locked. Helga looked up, searching for Arnold so she could make a sarcastic remark, only to find him staring straight at her.

She felt as though he'd had her hypnotized. Staring into those jade green pools. Unable to breathe. Unable to break the beautiful moment, she almost missed what Arnold was saying.

"Helga, I know we promised not to talk about it but... you were right. I have a lot to be thankful for and I don't show my appreciation for the people in my life enough and I want to start now. I really value our friendship, Helga. And for the record, you do have a great deal of people who care about you."

Helga blushed and looked down, nodding. "Can we get home, football head? Before your sappiness rubs off on me and I start spouting sonnets."

Arnold chuckled at this and nodded, unlocking the doors and heading home.

* * *

After dropping Helga off at her house, that resulted in an extremely awkward goodbye and Helga practically sprinting to the door for some reason he couldn't understand, Arnold headed home with a new outlook on life.

He had a wonderful family and a wonderful group of friends. They supported him through every endeavor and loved him unconditionally. He was truly a lucky kid.

Arnold walked up to his room and sat down at the computer, checking his email and other sundry items, and continued to mull over his situation with a smile.

_Yeah. And even if I never find my parents, even if I never get the chance, I have a great life. I'm lucky to be who I am, I should be very grateful. _

He was pulled from his musings by a soft _ping!_ from his computer. He looked up to see he'd received a new email.

**From**: **Overseas Travel Adventure **

**Subject: Contest**

**

* * *

**

Thanks all! This is my longest chapter yet, I think. Hope you enjoy it! (Also, yes, I know that "spouting sonnets" was something Helga might actually do. I thought it would be amusing; she's kinda telling a private joke with herself!)

Read and review, please! It makes me really happy, and extremely motivated, to know you all enjoy the story!

With love,

- Your Algebra


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